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Chapter III: Objections Considered

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"So. Where do we start?" Abigail asked, abandoning her cleaning efforts.

"I think we need an expert on the field because, as Riley so kindly pointed out, I am not one."

"Yeah, Heaven forbid you'd actually need to do all this research yourself," Riley muttered, not unkindly. It's not like he didn't know how much work Ben had put into researching his previous obsession.

"Haha," Ben said sarcastically. "No, I mean... there has to be someone who has done the research – a person to whom Atlantis is like the Templars were to me."

"Oh please. We'll get a nut case with a spirit guide ," Abigail snorted, then glanced at Ben. "No offense, of course."

"Naturally."

"But no serious scholar would study Atlantis!" Apparently Abigail still seemed to hold on to some illusions.

"I think I have the person we need..." Patrick started, then paused, looking uncomfortable.

"Yeah?" They all turned to look at him.

"Well, you put me in charge of finding people for your research team," he spoke directly to his son. "There was one woman whose resume looked good until we found out she was a reporter. Wrote a book about Templars a few years back, populist stuff. She's just published a book about Atlantis. She applied under a different name but as our background check is a bit more thorough... The books are not bad, mind you. No spirit guides or Martians, and her research seems good, though not exactly scholarly. But her bibliography and footnotes were academically sound. I checked. If only she wasn't a journalist..."

"What's her name, and where can we find her?" Ben asked.

"'Mina Goode' is the one which she used in her interview but the books were published as 'Scarlett Whiting'. I have her contact info back at the hotel. She's British, though, so she might have gone home."

"Not if she's a reporter who was only looking for a way to get more info about the find," Abigail reminded.

"Did it enter your mind at any point that she might just have wanted to work on the find? If she wrote a book on it..." Ben started and was interrupted by Abigail's passionate, "But it was a sensationalist book for laypeople!"

"Oh for... Who wrote serious books about any of those theories before we discovered the treasure?"

They stared at each other, preparing to go full ten rounds when Ian cleared his throat, and Ben met his gaze sheepishly.

"Right. Let's go."

"Go where? Ben, it's eight thirty and I need breakfast!" Riley was not whining, oh no, just trying to hold on to his rights.

"It's quite a fancy hotel, they do have room service," Ian reminded, hand resting lightly on Ben's lower back in a proprietary manner, guiding him towards the door.

Riley groaned, resigned, and went to dress.

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